Dolor De Amor
by Ariannette
Summary: Set After Nathan's Death- AU, after that. Claire can't take the ache of Nathan dying, sometimes its so strong, she wants to die. There's only, ever one person who can sympathize with her, only this time, she's not so sure. Paire
1. p r o l o g u e

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I was listening to Sia, and as some of you know, she's my muse for when it comes to anything Paire. This time, it made me think of something, and caused me to write this. It hasn't been beta'd, but if you guys like it, and think it's worth continuing, I'll be sure to have the chapters ahead Beta'd. Enjoy.

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As time passed, in the weeks that followed Nathan's funeral, and the semester ran on, with everything that had happened recently, Claire threw herself into her school work full time. She felt a need to ignore everything that happened in the outside world. It was for purely selfish reasons, really.

Noah's calls progressively slowed down from a few times a day, to a few a week, all of which she sent to voicemail, until she ultimately turned her phone off. It wasn't that she hated her father, but she hated everything he did. It seemed as much as she tried to explain to him how it bothered her that he lied, it never worked, he never listened.

With Nathan gone, she'd thought she'd feel a need to get closer to the only dad she had left, but she didn't. no words would ever truly express the resentment she felt towards him. It was a feeling that didn't plan to leave any time soon, and as much as she had tried to express that, after Nathan's funeral, he didn't understand that either.

So its how it really began, her solitude, her complete detachment from everyone. The first person that really cut off contact with her, after her dad was Gretchen. She'd kept insisting that they try some type of romance between the both of them, but Claire had finally told her, she couldn't. She cared about her, as a friend, and she'd been great as that. But the truth was, she couldn't imagine anything beyond that.

Gretchen had transferred dorms again, quickly after Claire's confession. She mourned the loss of a friend, but found the emptiness of the room soothing as well.

Her mom didn't even call her as often anymore, not now that she had her boyfriend. He'd persuaded her to take some big trip with him to South America, where they had been now for a couple of months.

In a strangely twisted way, Claire was happy her mother was away. She was the one person, who she'd feel shame for pushing away in her current semi stoic state. Her mother, who'd always been everything Claire had ever needed, wouldn't have understood- so it was perfect that she was there to see her.

There were days that went by ok, and she wouldn't feel despair trickling down her, or like she didn't have enough air. But there were those days, where climbing out of bed to get to class, just seemed like required too much energy. What she couldn't pinpoint, was why she felt so bad. The feelings would hit her out of nowhere, too.

One moment she'd be fine, she would be able to manage a smile, and remembering Nathan wouldn't bring her any tears, and then out of thin air, the thought that he was gone, made her want to shoot herself. She wanted to go to sleep, and wish she'd never wake up again.

There was this constant hole in her chest, when those moments rose, and she felt like the life was being pulled out of her, and everything seemed so pointless. She felt as if life itself couldn't get worse. She'd scream into her bed sheets, and wake up with drenched pillows, full of tears. Some nights she didn't remember ever crying, and it scared her.

Slowly, she felt as if she might be going crazy, because she'd never been that close to Nathan- she'd wished for it, but it had never really happened. They'd never truly formed a father-daughter bond, as strongly as she'd wanted, it was why all the despair she felt, truly surprised her.

Days blended together, until she'd completely lost track of time. Before she knew it, Christmas was right around the corner, and she had another voicemail from Noah, asking her to spend Christmas with him and Lyle, seeing as her mom would still be in South America with her boyfriend.

She had deleted the message, the thought of spending Christmas with her dad, truly repulsed her. Just remembering what he'd done, brought a full bought of emotions back, that she had worked hard to bottle away.

Claire had looked at her phone, and frowned, realizing there was a missed call and a voicemail, from a number she didn't recognize. The voice was icy, and chilling, it belonged to Angela Petrelli. She was asking the same thing as her dad, to spend the holidays with her, and the Petrelli's that were left. The prospect of company was just so- distant. She couldn't fathom the idea of being close to someone else. Especially when it involved people who would most likely than not, bring subject of Nathan up.

And so it was, that she decided not to go to either of them. She couldn't spend the holidays on campus, so she decided to rent the cheapest apartment she could find, nearest to her school, under an alias. The last thing she need was for her dad to show up at her door step unannounced.

She woke up, Christmas eve, feeling relief in the fact, that no one knew where she was, or where to find her. It was raining outside, making her smile for an odd reason. Usually she hated the rain, but it felt so perfect, that she couldn't describe it.

After grabbing a cup of hot chocolate, she sat by the window, watching small droplets hit the window, with a tiny splash. She wanted to open the window, and take the shots of water herself, instead of watching them hit the glass. Something about how they hit with such power, even if it was small, made her want to take it instead. Claire wanted the water to drench her, to wash away the unpleasant feelings surging through her.

Out of no where, there was a knock at the door that made her burn herself with the hot chocolate. Claire got up, and set the mug on her table, trying to be silent as she walked over to the door. There wasn't anyway it could be anyone who knew her, she'd been sure not to sign her name on the rental application.

But through the peephole, she proved herself wrong. On the other side of the door, drenched in water, from the rain, stood a broody looking Peter.

It had been so long since she'd thought about him, ever since the night of Nathan's funeral. It actually amused her how things seemed to have changed around. She remembered that night vividly, as she'd consoled him, and had hoped he'd be able to cope. Now it was her that needed the concern, and help, not that she'd ask for it.

Seeing him there, only a couple feet away, it brought so many feelings back. She felt happy to see him, despite her anti-social state, and part of her wanted to eagerly invite him in, yet the other, the other didn't want him to see how she'd become.

He made it difficult, when he gave a small laugh, with what looked to be a painful smile, and looked down at the ground, "I can see the shadow of your feet, Claire."

Claire bit her lip, and unlocked the door, and opened it, revealing herself at last. She attempted her own smile, but knew it probably resembled more of a grimace than anything.

She studied Peter, as they weren't saying anything. Even though he was smiling, she could see it was just a façade, if there was a way to show how awfully she, herself had been feeling lately, it stood in front of her. In a sum of words, Peter showed the stress, and the emotional beating on the outside, that she inwardly had been feeling.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, trying to hide her discovery from herself. There wouldn't be a point in confessing what she was going through to him, he looked like he was going through his own hell.

Peter blinked slowly, and visibly swallowed, as if he was mustering up the energy to respond, "My mom really wanted- we really wanted you to join us, for Christmas", he finished off in a whisper.

He wasn't looking at her anymore, rather, everything else on the ground but her. His eyes were distant, off in his own world, he looked near death.

She couldn't do it. Just seeing his suffering, reminded her of Nathan again, and when Peter inhaled, she felt a raw ache, so potent it nearly knocked her out.

"I can't- I'm, um, swamped with school stuff", she lied.

His eyes ran back to hers, and she noticed they'd gotten slightly glossy, "Please, I can't go back there without you. I-"

But he couldn't finish, it was like the air had brought more pain inside him. Claire felt that ache again, breathing was painful for her too, she couldn't take seeing Peter anymore, not when it reminded her of Nathan, and not when that brought all the pain back.

When she was about to say no, when that moment was so close, and the answer was a second away from her lips, she saw his nose flair. Peter inhaled again, and Claire felt the memories of Nathan rushing back like a movie in her head. She closed her eyes tightly, trying everything in her power to block it all out, but it didn't work.

In front of her, Peter doubled over, and ran a hand through his hair, trying to compose himself, from a near-breakdown. She could see just how close he was from breaking down, and it tore her too. She could deal with herself being miserable, and having bouts of wanting to die, but she couldn't deal with Peter in pain.

"Fine", Claire heard herself saying, surprised at her response, "I'll go."

It would drain her, even possibly break her, but if it would help Peter, she'd do it. He might not have been a constant in her life, but he was someone Claire didn't want to compromise being ok. If only one of them could be ok, it had to be him, always him.

…..

Christmas at the Petrelli mansion was awkward.

Heidi, Angela, the boys , and Peter were there, and though the boys were off in their own place, Angela and Heidi seemed to be bonding through their cooking. It would have left her and Peter to talk, and catch up, but it wasn't that at all.

He seemed distant, even if he spoke to everyone evenly, and with a smile. Maybe it was that they couldn't see how it was all fake, that he didn't truly want to smile, or possibly even be there, she didn't know. All she did know was that she didn't want to, she only felt a sudden desire to go upstairs and scream into a pillow with all the power inside her. She felt the need to even jump off the top terrace, and hope she wouldn't be able to regenerate back together.

The pain that ran through her felt worse and worse with every single second that passed by. It was a conundrum to her. With her eyes closed, she tried to breath evenly, and concentrate on a passage she'd visually memorized from a book she had read, anything- just not being there, and certainly not think about what she was feeling in her chest.

When it got to be too much, when she felt like it was tumbling her down, and that every single molecule in her body was withering in pain, right along with her, she stood up, trying to make it out, something else happened.

A few feet away from her Peter tripped, on one of Monty's toys, as he himself had been trying to leave the room, and fell, making him pass out. That very second, Claire felt the pain of the hit- felt the blackness that consumed her eyesight, until she as well, fell unconscious.


	2. c h a p t e r 1

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Ok, I wasn't thinking of continuing this, but i had a dream of what the first part led to, so now i sort of have to continue it. I'm not promising it's going to be long or anything, i'm hoping its just a four-parter, perhaps 5... We'll see? Enjoy.

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Dolor De Amor

Chapter 1

Claire woke up, to see Heidi's face hovering her own, with frantic eyes. With her help, she slowly sat up, and massaged her head. It hadn't been hit, but the pain vibrated through her head, as if it had.

"Claire, what happened?", Heidi let out agitatedly .

In fact, she didn't know what had happened, she was just as dumbfounded as Heidi was. All that she could really recall, was seeing Peter fall, pass out, and feeling what he had felt at that moment, then blacking out as well.

Perhaps, in another world, another time, with other people, someone else would have freaked out, perhaps they would have been scared by the circumstances surrounding, what was happening to her, but Claire wasn't. All she was sure about, was that the pain, and suffering that she'd felt at that precise moment, had not been her own, and though it truly left her at ease for a moment, at the same time, it made her feel worse to know that Peter felt such agony.

What she'd been experiencing those past few weeks, had felt so unnaturally painful, worse than anything she'd felt before in her life. Claire wasn't a bubbly, happy go lucky person, but she had also never been as depressed as she felt now.

So it made sense, that when she saw Peter, that when she felt his pain, it was him. It came together like a a missing puzzle piece, the way she'd responded the same, to his falling. It made sense how she mirrored his exterior pain, inside.

Across from her, still laying on the floor, was a passed out Peter. Claire shrugged, at Heidi's question, and made her way to him, watching as Angela tried to shake him awake. It seemed though, that anything Angela did, didn't work. He laid there, still as death.

When Claire, brought her finger tips, to brush his arm though, he moved. It was only a fraction, but he parted his lips, and sucked air in, filling his lungs once again, with air he desperately needed. She could feel his claustrophobia then, the need for fresh air, and the way his lungs weren't satisfied with what they had, she felt the same thing.

He opened his eyes, to say something, but she could feel his need, it was the same as hers.

Angela sighed, behind Claire, and took his hand, "You're clumsiness astounds me, Peter. Only you would trip over a toy."

As much as it pained him, he tried to give half a smile, before swallowing, and looking down at the floor, while trying to stand up. Claire saw the difficulty, she felt it, but took his arms anyway, as she tried to steady the both of them.

"Do you want to go outside?" she whispered, only to him, though both Angela and Heidi could hear.

His curt nod, and eyes closing said it all. Before Heidi, and Angela could say anything else, and interrupt with questions, she led him outside.

The air was crisp, cold, and moist from the rain earlier in the day. It was perfect, for what they both needed, it felt numbing to the pain Peter projected to her. Because that's what it was, the pain, everything she'd felt, it all belonged to him.

As to, how she could ask him, Claire wasn't sure. But what she did know, was that if she brought up the pain, and Nathan, he would double over again, and then the ache, the sting would lead straight to her. She'd feel the thundering agony in her chest again.

"Who's power do you have?" she asked tenderly, trying to sound as comforting as possible.

Peter eyed her suspiciously, and sucked another big amount of air in, trying to maintain at ease. Every second for him was painfully challenging to live, Claire could see it, but wondered why no one else saw his misery.

"Yours", he mumbled out, swallowing again, then lowering his eyes, to the ground. All the façade, that he'd had inside for Heidi, the boys and his mom, was gone now. He couldn't keep the act up any longer, and the fact, that he could show his true state to her, it warmed Claire more than anything.

If everything else failed her, if her father committed murder again, if Angela went behind their backs, and tried taking over the world, or becoming some evil dictator, Claire knew one thing- the one person who would never be fake with her was, Peter.

Even now, when he tried concealing his darkest moments, he didn't hide it from her. It was a refreshing thought to Claire, and lifted her own mood, even though his was dangerously low.

"That doesn't make sense. Are you sure?" Claire asked, sitting down on the outside bench, with him.

Peter exhaled, and nodded, "I…um, kept it."

There was a strong wind, and Peter closed his eyes, letting it hit him, full force. Maybe he hoped, it would be enough to take away the sadness that consumed him, maybe it could help. But as he projected his feelings again, Claire could see it hadn't help.

It was like this gnawing inside of her chest, that kept getting eaten up, by some rotting source. When he opened up his feelings, it was like she could feel this missing piece inside him, it made her own eyes water.

She closed her eyes, "Peter, I can feel you. Everything you're feeling- I feel inside too. There's this hole in my chest, this ache that makes me want to scream, and kill myself. Only, its not me, I know its you, and it scares me. It won't go away."

His eyes were locked in hers, and she could feel a new sensation radiating through her, fear. It started slowly, until it was a pang spreading through out her body. She felt the need to hide herself, to go inside a room and maybe never come back out. Slowly, she let her hand travel to his lap, were his were, and intertwined her fingers with his. Almost immediately, there was this different feeling, a pang, a curious concerning one, that she didn't know what to translate to.

Squeezing his hand, Claire tried making a smile, "Don't be scared. You don't have to be scared, Peter. It's just- it's dangerous. What you feel is really dangerous, it scares me."

It surprised her, when he pulled his hand away, and looked away from her. He didn't say anything, only hugged himself, from the cold. When he turned back, she could sense his feelings leaving her, he'd formed some type of protective barrier between the both of them, "I'm fine. I don't know what you're talking about."

Claire felt a stinging feeling then, only it wasn't his, but hers. It was rejection, something she was very familiar with, when it came to Petrelli's, only she'd never thought Peter would do it to her, he was different, she'd thought.

"You promised Peter, you promised you wouldn't lie to me. You're the only one who's ever been honest…don't change now. Let me help you-"

Peter stood up instantly, "I don't need help. I'm fine Claire, I'm not the one that isolated herself."

"Yeah, because of what you made me feel. Don't tell me you haven't done the same. You look like you haven't slept, or ate since the funeral. Let me be there for you, you need help."

He shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair, like the whole situation was frustrating him, "No. This isn't how it works, ok? I, I…I need to take care of you. It's what he wanted, it's how it's supposed to be." His voice cracked a little, "He wanted me, to take care of you. Don't you get that?"

Everything he was feeling started pouring out again. Claire felt her own need to start balling, and crying right there and then. Her chest tightened, and air seemed to be less available than before, but she closed her eyes and swallowed. Because it wasn't her, she had to remind herself, that she wasn't feeling this, it was purely Peter, and if she couldn't remind herself that, she wouldn't be able to help him.

When her mind had cleared, and she had opened her eyes, to see that the rim of his eyes had gotten dangerously red, Claire took his hands, in hers again, and smiled, "Nathan should have known, Peter, that if there was going to be any type of taking care of, it would be me, with you. You need someone, you can't keep this to yourself."

He sniffled, and shook his head, "I'm ok. I am, it's just, harder than I thought it was going to be."

"I miss him too, you know. It's not just you. At least you got to know him, at least you got time with him." she felt her own feelings rise, and her eyes water, "I never really got that. I always thought we'd have time. One of us was always busy saving the world, or trying to be normal. Neither of us ever made time. I always wanted to spend a holiday with him, even father's day. I thought we'd even get to have breakfast together, like a family- but now its gone.

"So you can stand here, and mourn him, but what you haven't counted in is, all the time you got to spend with him. You don't find joy in the fact that you at least knew him better than everyone else. While I will always have are, what ifs?"

Peter looked at the ground, and shut his eyes, "It's different, Claire. He was all I had, the only one who really cared. There's no one left now. My mom always preferred him, she always chose him, she never cared as much as Nathan did. I'm alone now."

Blood boiled inside her, and left a sour tinge in her mouth. She felt not only anger, but rejection again, "What about me? If I didn't care, I wouldn't be here. If I was just like everyone else, the moment, I started feeling what you feel, I would have ran the other way, but I haven't. I 'm here, and I'm staying. Whether you admit it or not, you need me, and I don't care if you don't like it, or if you complain or whine, I'm not going anywhere. You lied to me, and said you'd be fine, but you aren't. And so I can't leave, not if I can't be sure if you'll be ok."

He shook his head again and sighed, "You have your own life to live."

"And you're part of it, a big part. You have to get it through your head Peter, the day you saved me at my homecoming, you became important to me." She'd never said that out loud, and it scared her to admit the truth. But he needed to feel important to someone, and he was to her. He was a ray of sunshine in a dark world that Claire had been pushed into.

If it took all of her power, time, and being, she'd fix her hero.

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End file.
